Casualidad
by redspanishpulpo
Summary: One-shot Spamano/BTT. After another tiring World Conference, the Bad Touch Trio decides to go to the famous nightclub Pachá in search of some fun. However, the world can be a small place...


**Casualidad**

_Sigh._

…_..Sigh…..Siiigh….._

…_..SIIIIIIGH-_

"Will you cut it out already?!"

Spain was jolted back into reality by the scratchy voice that had just harshly yelled at him. He momentarily looked up at his German friend with bewilderment, and then, after a couple of seconds of processing the yelling that had just happened, he let his head fall back onto the table with another long sigh. The loud _clonk_ of Spain's thick head hitting the table resounded across the large meeting room, empty at the moment save for three troublesome men, since everyone else had left after the conclusion of the failed World Meeting.

"He left without saying a word, so suddenly…and he dragged his brother away, too!" Spain leaned back and flailed his arms in a large, exaggerated shrug, as if the thought of his cute Italian abandoning him hurriedly and without a word was an unfathomable concept for him. "What if he hates me or something? ¡Aaayy! ¡Mi pequeño henchman!"

Prussia looked at his oddly mopey friend with a raised eyebrow, and then exchanged glances with France, who proceeded to make his way around the Spaniard's chair to stroke his neck and back in a…_friendly_…manner.

"Now, now, _mon ami…_you really think too much about that Italian! You should just leave him be if he's not showing interest. Think about other things~" His hands moved downwards, almost getting under Spain's shirt, and he hummed in delight. "Hmm…I know~ How about we give ourselves some… _joie_ tonight, hmm, _mes amis_~?"

And that's what brought Spain to this moment in time, several hours later, with these two naughty companions of his.

After a quick exchange of words, the trio was on its way to conquer a Spanish nightclub. Even though they were all men and couldn't cut the line by making good use of their vital regions, they still didn't have to stay in line long, for they were frequent visitors to just about all the good nightclubs in Madrid, and Spain had plentiful connections with all the managers anyway. Perks of his job as a nation.

Prussia snickered his signature _'Kesesesesese~'_ as they made their way up the steps, winking at all the jealous looks they received as they skipped the long line and followed the bouncer into the club. "So I see we're going for the popular, luxurious kind tonight, huh?"

"_Oui~_ The _sexy_, sophisticated kind~ We could score some preppy girls here~ Or maybe a rich, handsome tourist…or several~? _Ohonhonhonhon_~"

Spain laughed cheerfully at the antics of his friends and didn't get a chance to reply as the heavy doors opened and they stepped into the loud pulsing music and the darkness interrupted only by moving bodies and flashing neon lights. The club was larger than it seemed to be from the outside, with several dark floors and balconies that all looked at the crowded dance floor down on the first floor. A large red cherry, signature of this particular nightclub, stood out in the form of a bright neon sign. Spain had been to this place many times, but that large cherry always managed to ignite something lustfully playful in him the moment he set foot into the darkness.

The trio, led by an eager Prussia, hurriedly made its way to the bar on the opposite side of the dance floor. The German leaned over casually, waved over the bartender, asked for a beer, and panicked at the price.

"WHAT?! 10 EUROS FOR THAT FUCKING TINY BEER?! YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME! ESPAÑAAA!"

Spain laughed and patted his friend on the shoulder, yelling into his ear so as to be heard. "LO SIENTO AMIGO, THAT'S THE WAY THIS PLACE IS!"

"BUT SPAAAIN! I WANT TO GET WASTED! NOT BROKE, _VERDAMMT_!"

France stood between his two friends and wrapped his arms around them, embracing them both at once and laughing seductively. "DON'T WORRY, _MES AMIS_~ THE DRINKS ARE ALL ON ME TONIGHT, HM~?"

Spain looked up at his French friend incredulously. "¡¿QUÉ?! AMIGO, ARE YOU SURE YOU CAN AFFORD THAT?! I MEAN I KNOW YOU'RE MUCH BETTER OFF THAN ME ECONOMICALLY BUT STILL-"

France interrupted his friend by slamming a large cocktail in front of him. "DON'T WORRY _MON AMI_, I …_GET ALONG…_ WITH THE BARTENDER~" He winked at the bartender, who returned the gesture and set down several more drinks to provide the trio with some entertainment for the rest of the night.

Of course, once the three men got some alcohol into their systems, things started to change drastically, and finally the night really began. France was the first to start the fun – after enough drinks, he wrapped his arm around the bartender's waist and led him into another, more private room of the club. Prussia soon followed suit, finding his fun by flirting with a group of young Spanish girls and impressing them with his foreign accent and pale complexion. Soon enough he, too, disappeared into the darkness, though his destination was one of the sofas by the dance floor that the ladies had reserved for their little group.

Spain, however, still couldn't get his mind off Romano.

_Romano, Romano… ay, Romanito… Why did you leave so suddenly? Why did you ignore me?_

He took another swig of whatever drink was in front of him at the moment, courtesy of France. A Bloody Mary, if he remembered correctly.

_Red, red like a tomato, red like Romano's cute cheeks whenever he blushes…why do you hate me so much? Why won't you stay with me? Romano…_

Unable to handle staring at that beautiful color anymore, Spain quickly downed the rest of the crimson cocktail and moved on to the Tequila shots. He drank with himself, alone, without his Romano…

_Romano, Romano, Romano…_

The song that was playing suddenly changed. It was still an upbeat Techno club song, but Spain could faintly hear the sound of a guitar in the background.

He remembered the times he played his guitar for Romano, sang for Romano, danced for Romano. Everything for Romano…

His feet slowly led him towards the crowded dance floor. He swayed as he did so, feeling the music, the alcohol, and the thoughts of Romano already begin to consume his entire being. He pushed his way through the crowd until he was in the center of the dance floor, where he stood, lowered his head, closed his eyes, and waited, waited for the dangerous cocktail of alcohol and song to consume him…

…and seconds later, the music burst into a loud, powerful beat, and everyone danced, jumped along to the song. Spain began to sway his hips, to instinctively move his entire body to the beat, dancing, showing off his body, his skill, to anyone that would look, hoping that maybe Romano could see as well.

People certainly did look. Many pretty girls tried to get close to him, selfishly hoping that he would dance with them, but Spain kept on ignoring everything around him. He didn't care who was trying to dance with him, or even where his two friends had gone. He only cared about Romano, the Romano who wasn't here with him, the Romano who had left without a word earlier that day…

The song slowed down a little after the chorus, and Spain finally opened his eyes, still dazed from the dancing and the strobe lights. His gaze turned predatory and lustful, completely lost in the alcohol, and he began to scan the crowd, searching for Romano, Romano, that sexy Italian…

_Romano…Romano… ¿Dónde estás~? Come dance with Boss, querido Roma-_

Spain's hungry eyes widened at the sight of the young, slender man that stood in front of him, looking directly into his eyes. The alcohol and the low lighting of the room worked together to prevent Spain from seeing the man's every detail, though. All he could see clearly was short hair…was that auburn? Sí, sí, that had to be auburn hair…

_Auburn hair…hazel eyes…it's him, it's him, IT'S HIM!_

He didn't give the stranger time to speak. He couldn't. It was Romano, Romano, _ROMANO! _Without thinking (well, who _was_ thinking in that club anyway), he leaned down and seized the man into a forceful, desperate, passionate kiss.

He thought he felt light punches on his chest, the man desperately trying to push him away. _Sí, of course, that's what Romano would do_, he thought. _Sí, because this IS Romano, here with me. Dancing with me. My Romano…this is him…he's here…he's come back to me…and I'm not giving him up now._

Spain held onto the man tighter and continued to kiss him, to take over his mouth. He wrapped his arms tightly around the stranger's waist to the point where the man was helpless to Spain's actions. He swayed them both, made them both dance, move their bodies to the music as one. The young man struggled, but that only made Spain kiss him more ravenously, biting down hungrily on the man's lip, nibbling on his neck without mercy, listening for every whine and moan his Romano made.

_Romano…Romano…Romano…Ro-_

"-ESPAÑA!"

Spain was jolted back into reality by the Italian voice that had just yelled his non-human name, the one that only other nations and their bosses knew. It had been an Italian voice that he recognized too well but was very obviously NOT kissing. He alternated looking from one man to the other quickly with wide, confused eyes.

_Wait. Two Romanos?! What in the-_

_Oh._

His breathing stopped.

He took a step away from the stranger and towards the Italian who stood at the edge of the dance floor, slowly but desperately raising his arm, reaching out for the Italian and his adorable curl. Spain tried to speak, but his words didn't come out loud enough to be heard above the music of the dance floor. "Romano! I didn't…Romano…! I thought you were- oh dios mío…please understand…please listen to me! Don't leave again please d-"

"BASTARD, TAKE YOUR EYES OFF MY FRATELLO RIGHT NOW AND GET BACK HERE, DAMN IT!"

Spain turned back around at the shout to find another adorable fuming Italian forcefully grabbing the collar of his shirt. Again, his eyes went wide and he alternated looking between the two Italians-

"YOU FUCKING IDIOT! WE WERE HAVING SUCH A GREAT TIME ON THE DANCE FLOOR BUT NOOO, YOU HAVE TO STOP AND GO CHASE DOWN MY STUPID FRATELLO THE SECOND YOU SEE HIM! STUPID FUCKING BASTARD!"

Spain stared at who he previously thought was a 'stranger' incredulously. All this time…it had really been Romano…? And the other Italian was his _fratello_…Italy Veneciano?

…_.OOOOOOHHHHHHHHH!_

"ROMAAANOOOO! IT'S REALLY YOU!" Spain laughed and once again embraced Romano tightly and kissed him passionately until Romano growled and pushed him away.

"WHAT THE FUCK?! OF COURSE IT'S ME, YOU IDIOT!"

Spain smiled cheerfully and kissed Romano on the cheek. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY COUNTRY, EH, QUERIDO HENCHMAN? OH, WERE YOU TOURING MY COUNTRY WITH YOUR HERMANO? AY, THAT'S SO ADORABLE! I THOUGHT YOU LEFT THE MEETING BECAUSE YOU HATED ME! BUT YOU JUST MISSED ME, DIDN'T YOU? AWW, SO CUUUUUU-OOF!"

Spain doubled over and clutched his stomach after the painful head-butt, courtesy of Romano. Unbeknownst to Spain, Romano whispered a couple of words that were lost to the loud music of the club…

"Damn it, bastard…am I really that predictable..?"


End file.
